


And truly I want no other Paradise.

by hemisphaeric



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Happily Ever After Fest, M/M, happy with a sad ending, lol, matching moustache, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemisphaeric/pseuds/hemisphaeric
Summary: Martín and Andrés unexpectedly survive the Heist, they get out alive of the Bank of Spain and they spend the time they have left together on a beautiful island."No me pongan en lo oscuro a morir como un traidor. Yo soy bueno y como bueno, moriré de cara al sol."
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	And truly I want no other Paradise.

**Author's Note:**

> Everything went according to canon, except for the fact that Berlín didn't die in the Mint and he reunited with Martín, and their plan, to save Río.

They had reached the island two days after escaping the Bank of Spain, the travel had gone as smooth as can be, Sergio had organised every detail, always the meticulous man all of them had relied on so much. Martín hadn’t even thought he would have gotten out of the bank, let alone alive, he had only cared about the gold. And Andrés. The two most important things in his life were now safe and sound with him.  
He was the happiest motherfucker on Earth. 

They had chosen a small island, close enough to Sergio and Raquel’s hiding place that they could visit from time to time and also close enough to a bigger island, where they could roam around, not afraid of being seen nor recognised by anyone. They could visit the local markets, have the local people tell them how to cook and mix the exotic foods and spices, so that Andrés could keep experimenting to improve his culinary skills. He had promised to spoil Martín with amazing food until his dying day and he was a man of his word.

The house was gorgeous, Andrés had been the one to find it and he had immediately fallen in love with the peculiar design and the warm colours.  
He had loved the way it almost merged with the vegetation of the island, which shadowed the house in all the right places, granting protection from the blazing sun.

“Ah Martín, it’s even more beautiful than in those pictures!” Andrés roamed around the house, checking how their things had been brought in and positioned perfectly, once again proof of Sergio’s perfect skills in having people do exactly as he told them. 

“Look, _mi amor_ , your paintings are here too” -Martín went through the canvases neatly stacked against the wall, until he found his favourite one- “ah! We’re hanging this over the bed and I don’t accept no as an answer” 

“Martín.” he tried to sound menacing but Martín knew him too well to fall for it, so he just laughed, walking to the bedroom on his left, canvas in his hands. 

“I knew you would have picked this one but it’s not that good, it has imperfections all over”

“Shut up, fake modesty doesn’t sound good on you” -he placed a little kiss on Andrés’ lips and then jumped on the bed- “plus, this is my favourite!” Martín positioned the painting in place and admired it from his vantage point, proud of his choice. 

As he stepped back down, Andrés embraced him tightly, resting his face in the crook of Martín’s neck, his breath itching as he simply revelled in the warmth. “We’re alive Martín, I can’t believe we made it” Andrés shook his head as Martín kissed his neck softly, tenderly caressing his hair.

“Ehi, love, look at me” -with a gentle touch of his fingers, he lifted Andrés’ chin up and was surprised by the vulnerability he saw in those beautiful dark eyes- “ _tranquilo, tranquilo mi amor_ , lie down with me, okay?”  
They lay on the big, soft bed, hugged impossibly close to each other, their limbs heavy and tired after the endeavours of the past days.  
It was a rare sight, Andrés never let his mask down, his façade coming so naturally in position, that to a stranger he could have seemed totally emotionless. But Martín knew better, he knew that Andrés felt, that he felt so much and so strongly and he was ready to go to the ends of the world to shield his impossible man from any form of pain.  
He fell asleep imagining himself as an armoured warrior who fought invisible dragons to protect his lover. But they always won.

———-

“Come join me, Andrés!” Martín felt and sounded like a little kid as he ran from their house to the sea, jumping in with a laugh.

“Come ooon!” he kept calling for the man who was peacefully reading on the beach, apparently not bothered at all by these excesses of joy.  
With another sprint, Martín got out of the water and threw himself at Andrés, squishing the newspaper between them. 

“I know you weren’t even reading, so leave this bullshit and come with me.” 

“I would hardly call world news bullshit.” 

“I don’t care, like, at all, now come” and just like that, as a small smile curved Andrés’ lips up, Martín knew he had won, he helped him stand up and jumped back in the water. They swam and splashed around, laughs coming easily as Martín tried to catch Andrés who, on the other hand kept squishing away, fast and confident in his swimming abilities. 

“This whole scenario looks good on you” 

“Ah sí?” Martín took advantage of the moment to swim closer to Andrés and place a little salty kiss on his lips “You know what else looks good on me?” 

“Jesus, Martín, do you ever listen to yourself? If you had been the one to make the first move with one of your cheesy lines, I would have ran away” he tried to push Martín away, rolling his eyes but the man was faster and he clasped his legs around Andrés’ waist. Once again victorious, he trapped him in a sweet embrace. 

“Oh shut up, you love it” -Martín bit Andrés’ ear tentatively, enjoying the reaction he provoked- “I know it turns you on.”

The faked disdain in Andrés eyes crumbled away easily under the influence of Martín’s body being so impossibly close, turning in a challenging look in a flash. Martín wanted to play and Andrés was absolutely ready to be the winner of the match.  
The kiss surprised Martín, who whimpered and kissed back fervently just as Andrés swiftly moved his hand inside Martín’s swim trunks. “Now it’s your turn to shut your pretty, filthy mouth, _cariño_ ” 

“I can think of many things I can do with my pretty, filthy mouth.” 

Oh if only the gang could have seen them now, what a shocking view it would have been. Their self-centred, egotistical, slightly maniac leaders being delicate and calm around each other, hugging and kissing like any normal couple. A collision of power and genius turned into whispers and gentle touches.

———-

"Who thought we’d end up like this?"

Andrés opened his eyes slowly, lazily turning his gaze towards the man on his right. The sight didn’t disappoint him at all, sun-kissed skin, big blue eyes that contrasted perfectly with red lips and that neatly trimmed moustache Martín had insisted on growing. He had managed to convince Andrés to do the same thing and although he would’ve never admitted it out loud, he quite enjoyed the way they both looked. 

“What do you mean?” 

Martín smiled, his lips curling up as a playful expression filled his features “You know exactly what I mean, _mi amor_ ” 

“No, not at all, please explain it to me, I’m a little slow these days. Must be the tranquillity of this place” as he relaxed back on his deck chair, Andrés closed his eyes and exhaled softly, preparing to be completely enveloped in Martín’s velvety voice. 

“So, first of all, we’re here together on a beautiful island, we’re both alive…” -he sucked in a breath and reached out to grab Andrés’ hand- “we succeeded in what even you and me thought was impossible. Oh no, don’t you dare look at me like that, _cariño_ , you thought that too.” 

Andrés’ warm, relaxed laugh filled Martín’s heart with delight and he couldn’t help it anymore, he pulled strongly to get Andrés to lie down close to him on the warm sand, completely ignoring the protests about it sticking to their sweaty bodies, how it would get everywhere, how they would have to to leave their swimsuits outside to not bring the mess in the house. Martín interrupted him with a soft kiss on the lips. 

“Stop talking, love, and let me finish my story. And if we have to walk around naked I don’t really mind. Unbelievably, we have survived the biggest suicide plan in history. Our incredible creation has revealed itself to be worthy of its father” -he pointed his fingers quickly between them- “that’d be us. Our faithful gang is safe and sound too, well that piece of shit has killed Tokio” -he stopped for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath- “and it hurt even if I didn’t like her at all. And you hated her profoundly yes, I know, I’ve heard it all before so many times. But she was one of us.”

———-

“What are you cooking tonight?” Martín came in the kitchen, still wet and warm from spending a long time swimming and sunbathing on the beach.

Andrés didn’t lift his eyes, busy with pots and frying pans “Fresh pasta with zucchini, shrimp and saffron” 

“Sounds very nice, can I be of any help?” Martín sat on the countertop, his legs dangling back and forth as he stared at the delicious-looking food Andrés was preparing. 

“Um you can pick a wine, go go, food’s almost ready, hop off and be careful not to hurt yourself jumping from such a height.” 

“Excuse me?” resting his hands on his hips, Martín stared intently at Andrés, who laughed and gave him a playful lopsided smile. 

“You’re very short _mi amor_ , that’s cute actually” 

“I’m not _cute_ ” -Martín’s outraged expression caused another fit of laughter to erupt from Andrés mouth.

“Very cute and tiny.” 

“ _Pelotudo_ ”

———-

Their happily ever after didn’t last nearly as long as Martín had imagined, or at least hoped for. He started noticing how Andrés was growing increasingly more tired as the days passed, his body suddenly unresponsive to his willpower. He had tried to hide it at first, always proud even in misery but Martín was a very attentive partner. He had never left Andrés’ side and he knew the man better that anybody else.

“I’m sorry, _mi alma_ ” 

“Andrés, no, don’t be a fool.” 

“I wish I could stay with you longer, I really do” Andrés’ voice was just a bit more than a whisper, his thin body trembling as Martín held tight onto him and injected the drugs under his skin. Martín shushed him again, gently cuddling Andrés’ hair, the soft skin behind his ears and kissing his warm forehead. 

“You know what we’re going to do now, _mi amor_?” -Andrés opened his eyes briefly, the shadow of his characteristic enthralling smile brightening his tired features- “yes, we’re going on the beach, the sun is setting and it’s so beautiful there.” 

“Please, Martín” he didn’t reply, choosing to ignore the remark as he bit his lip and remembered just how many different times Andrés had said he wanted to go exactly like that, at sunset on a stunning island in the middle of the ocean. He helped his lover stand up and guided him to the beach. 

“You’re going to be very, very rich soon.” Martín laughed then, laughed at how this impossible man could say or even just think such things. 

“News may have not reached you but I’m already pretty rich, _mi amor_ , I have all this gold, I could bathe in it, like Scrooge McDuck.” He stroked Andrés’ cheek gently and kissed him. 

“This beauty, Martín, this is exactly where we were supposed to be” unspoken words hung in the air, filling the small space between them.

Martín had always thought that men like Andrés couldn’t have a normal death, for Gods weren’t supposed to end up frail and ruined, bruised to the core and consumed by an invisible enemy.  
He just stood there, staring at the sunset on the ocean, holding Andrés close as if by doing do he could give him some of his own vital force. He would have gone to Hell and back if it meant saving the man he loved, he would have sold his soul only to allow them both more time together, more time in their mortal forms, more years to grow old together, to plan heists and robberies they would have never done.  
Because after all they had gone through, that was still what they did best: transform what common men vulgarly referred to as stealing in a form of art, a Tragedy in five acts masterfully acted on the stage of life. 

“Bisogna far della propria vita come si fa un’opera d’arte.” Andrés had told him oh, so many times, in the words of D’Annunzio. _’One should make of his own life a work of art.’_

They had gone over the event of his death together, Andrés always being open when it came to talking about his imminent departure.  
“Ignoring the fact that I’m slowly dying serves nobody, _mi amor_. I’m just going to make sure I make the most of the days I have left.” 

The unspoken ‘with you’ had been pressed with a soft kiss to Martín’s lips and he had understood, as always. Despite being two men who rarely stopped talking, they surely could communicate without using a single word. The most meaningful moments between them were silent, because words couldn’t encapsulate the strength of their bond. Something truly ineffable.

A few days passed, they weren’t allowed much more time together. Martín knew the time to say goodbye would have come, he had known for so long, he had been preparing for months, years even, for this exact moment.  
Yet the pain he felt the moment he held Andrés lifeless body in his arms, crying and screaming into the night, was nothing even remotely close to what he had imagined. 

The night went on and on, void and mellow as Martín roamed aimlessly around the house, moving things around and drinking milk. He found a little note on the fridge door, his eyes filling with tears as he read the words Andrés had recited to him so many times. 

__

_“Isolated in love as though in a dark wood,  
our two hearts, breathing out their peaceful tenderness,  
will be two nightingales which sing in the evening._

__

_Without concerning ourselves with what Fate holds  
for us, we shall walk nevertheless in step,  
and hand in hand, with the child-like soul_

__

__

_of those who love each other without complication, is it not so?”_

__

_Te quiero, Martín._

**Author's Note:**

> The title and poem in the final note are from Paul Verlaine's "La Bonne Chanson".


End file.
